Fantasy The Emperor of Destruction

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The Epiphany of the Bouncing Head
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Princess Margaret McMasters thought her cousin Cunha was going to be her savior.

But as Princess Margaret watched cousin Cunha mur*er her dear brother Prince Darvin, and gasped as Darvin's head bounced down the steps of the throne room, Margaret suddenly realized that perhaps she didn't know Cunha quite as well as she thought she did.

Even though they were cousins, Cunha has grown up largely separate from the rest of the McMasters clan. In fact, Margaret only had three solid memories of Cunha growing up, all around the tender age of eighteen.

They were all McMasters at the family ball in Rockrod, all descended from the founding Impressionators. Four hundred years ago, the McMasters clan had discovered that they had the unusual ability to connect to the Power, the Power at the Roots of the Earth. "Gravity", the Wise Men called it; but whatever it was called, the McMasters family was among the few who could tap into it. Very quickly their feats became the stuff of legends, and before long the McMasters Empire of Aridor was born. Over 400 years, from father to son to father to son, the power had been handed down to the current generation, ruled by Emperor William, a kindly old man who was grooming his elder son Delos to take his place. Margaret was his daughter, and she had a younger brother named Darvin.

Margaret first saw Cunha at a family gathering.

Margaret knew who he was, even though they had never formally met. He grinned at her from across the room like they were old friends, sending a chill down her spine. He had dark hair combed roughly over his forehead, dark eyes, and an even darker smile. The tingling of what she would later learn was ahmen only intensified when he sat down next to her at a grand dinner festival.

"Hello, Cousin," he said, smiling at her.

Margaret didn't quite know what to say. She knew they were both about the same age, but Cunha seemed older, and more... experienced.

Not trusting her voice, she gave him a watery smile. He put his hand over hers.

Margaret felt a familiar tingling in her body. It has only been a few harvests since she had Made the Change. Her Phongfruit Forest was still growing, as were her Wisdoms, though not quickly enough to suit her, as she fondled them in her bedroom mirror and urged them to hurry up and grow. The tingling she felt was growing more and more familiar. It was her ahmen. Men had jizz, women had ahmen, regardless or not whether they had the ability to harness the powers of the Roots of the Earth. Like most McMasters, Margaret had the Power, though not as impressively as her brothers Delos or Darvin.

Cunha smiled at her. "You are a pretty thing. No wonder they've kept you hidden from me all these years." Those dark eyes seemed to probe her.

Hidden from him. A secret thrill ran through Margaret's Sacred Gorge, though she tried not to show it.

"I haven't been hiding," Margaret protested, in a higher pitched voice than she intended. It was the other way around! Cunha was the one who had been cloistered away for some mysterious reason-

Her thoughts were cut off by the feeling of Cunha's fingers playing over her hand. It was so casual that no one in view even took notice of it.

But for Margaret it was the most intimate experience imaginable. The way Cunha was looking at her said it all. She was his.

And then Rogar, Cunha's father, came over and said to him, "What are you doing?", and Margaret blushed as if she had been caught Juicing him. Rogar pulled Cunha away, and that was the end of her first encounter with her cousin Cunha.

Margaret's second encounter with Cunha came at another family dinner, a few months later. Cunha was sitting at a separate table, sandwiched by his mother and father, as if he couldn't be trusted to be alone, even in such a public setting. Margaret caught him staring at her. Margaret traded glances with him shyly, getting embarrassed whenever she met his gaze. Cunha would give her a sly grin which would cause Margaret to feel her ahmen rising again.

Margaret noticed that Cunha was talking to Marta, one of the serving girls, flirting with her every time she came by with a tray of food. One time he reached over and whispered something in her ear. She tittered and looked incredulously at him. Cunha nodded. Marta, biting her lip and looking tense, casually finished making a circuit with her tray, and then put it down and climbed the stairs to the balcony above the dining hall. And then, a moment or two later, Cunha followed her.

Cunha turned to flash Margaret a grin as he made his way up the stairs. The balcony was currently unoccupied. What could he and Marta....?

A few moments later, Margaret found out. It was the shadows, on the ceiling of the large banquet hall which gave them away. Margaret saw shadows of a man, clearly on top, plunging in and out.

He was bangsticking her!

Margaret was shocked. But the shadows gave it away clearly. She saw what must be Cunha's Cheeks of Plenty pumping up and down. She looked around her. Everyone was so consumed in their food and discussion that they didn't noticed. She reached out with her fledging Power. She could almost sense it; the heightened ahmen of Marta, the jizz of Cunha... his jizz felt really strong!

"Margaret dear, are you all right?" First Stewart Magister asked. He was such a kind man. Ever since Mother had died he had shown special concern for her.

"I'm fine," said Margaret weakly, hoping she wasn't blushing.

And then Cunha came down the stairs, a moment later, looking like a triumphant war hero. Marta followed a discrete minute later, her head down.

Cunha swaggered over to her. "My dear Cousin! How are you?" He kissed her cheek.

"What... you....." Margaret was speechless. She lowered her voice. "I... I didn't know you were sweet on Marta."

Cunha made a face. "I'm not."

"But... you... you...."

"Yes," Cunha grinned. "Me, me. It was all me, Cuz. And if you like, someday it can be all you."

He allowed himself a moment to enjoy her expression, and then sauntered back to his table, with a distinct bounce in his step.

The third and last time Margaret had encountered Cunha before he was sent away was at another family gathering, an outdoor picnic to celebrate the coming of Spring, on the banks of Lake Pinafore. It was an unusually hot day, and she wanted to go swimming, but she hadn't brought a bathing gown. So Margaret walked away from the gentle lawn and feasting tables and headed down to the wooded part of the shoreline. When she had gone far enough, she took off her clothes. She looked at herself critically. Her Phongfruit Forest was beginning to grow in nice and thickly, but her Wisdoms were still quite small. How would anyone take her seriously if her Wisdoms were small, even if she was a Princess? Margaret cupped her Wise Ones for a moment, frowned, shook her head, and entered the water.

The water was cold at first, but delicious, the perfect balm for a hot day. Margaret started to paddle around, just enjoying the serenity, when suddenly she felt something start to pull her down. No, something wasn't pulling her down, it was pushing her down. She cried out as her head dropped below the water for a few seconds. She fought to keep her head above water. She paddled furiously. What was pushing her down?

She caught a glimpse of someone, standing there, on the shoreline. "Help!' she cried. "Help!" she cried again, even as she got water in her mouth. She struggled furiously against the force pushing her down, down, down....

And then the force pushing her down was replaced by another force, one which was lifting her up. Margaret found her body being pulled out of the water. Her body floated on a gentle current of air, until she reached the shore and was gently set on her feet. Right in front of Cunha.

"It's dangerous to go swimming alone, Cousin," said Cunha mockingly. "Who knows what could happen?"

"You saved me! Thank you-" said Margaret. Suddenly she realized that she was naked, and Cunha wasn't even pretending not to stare at her body. Margaret felt insecure as she felt Cunha ogling her. She reached up and covered her Wisdoms with one hand, and her Phongfruit Forest with the other.

"No," said Cunha mildly, and Margaret wordlessly dropped her hands, as if he had uttered a word of Command. Cunha smiled and nodded, as if this confirmed something he already knew, and he scrutinized her. He stared into her eyes, looking for something. Then he nodded again, and reached out and caressed one of her Wisdoms.

"Cunha!" Margaret squealed, inadvertently pushing her Wisdom further into his palm.

"So soft... so soft and luscious," said Cunha with a little smile.

"No," Margaret cried.

"They are small, but you will undoubtedly get wiser in time," said Cunha. He released his hold on her Wise One, and pressed his lips against hers. Margaret groaned as she felt her ahmen rising within her. Using her ability with the Power, she sensed that Cunha's jizz was rising as well.

When Cunha pulled back, Margaret said, "We... we shouldn't."

"We should," Cunha assured her. Margaret practically melted as he took her in his arms. She could feel him starting to lean her backwards, to lower her to the ground-

"What in the name of the Global Cloaca is happening here?" a voice roared.

Margaret turned to see Uncle Rogar. She quickly pulled away. "Uncle! This isn't what it seems! Cunha, he...."

"I saved her, Father," said Cunha, giving a crooked grin. But his grin vanished when his father clouted him on the head. "Ow! Why did you do that for?"

"You come with me," said Rogar, sounding very angry as he took an iron grip on Cunha's arm.

"You'll regret this!" Cunha yelled, as he was dragged away.

And that was the last time Margaret saw Cunha before he was sent away. When she heard the news, at first she thought it was because of... what had happened between them. But then she heard an even more incredible story.

Cunha's mother was dead. And so was Cunha's father.

"What? How?" Margaret asked.

"No one knows," said Delos, her oldest brother. "Except, perhaps Father."

"And why is Cunha being sent away?"

Delos gave her a little smile. "No one knows. Do they, little sister?"

Margaret didn't like that smile. Only Father had been told what had happened on that day... so she thought. "Where did they send him?"

"Over the Unending Sea," said Delos.

"The Unending Sea? When is he coming back?"

"I'd put my money on never," said Delos, giving a grin. "Do you pine for him, little sister? Mark your calendar!"

Never turned out to be ten years. In ten years, things slowly changed. Margaret finished Making the Change and became a beautiful woman. Her Wisdoms never grew as far and wide as she liked, but that didn't stop her from tripping up and marrying Lord Farnham Beaumont seven years later, and every time he filled her with hot wax from his candelabra Margaret hoped and prayed to the Womb of the World that she would start baking a meat pie for him in her Sacred Gorge, but so far, that hadn't happened.

Her father, Emperor William, grew old and sick. He had some sort of illness that even Peine, the resident Wizard, could not treat. He obviously didn't have much time left.

Which meant that her oldest brother, Delos, would become Emperor of all of Aridor.

The Empire had fallen on hard times. The authority of the Emperor had crumbled, and the Emperor's cousins had declared themselves independent Kings and set up their own regimes. The Empire of Aridor once ruled over the Northfold, Southfold, Eastfold, and Westfold; in present times, it only ruled over the Centerfold. The Northfold now called itself the North Kingdom of Uppsala, ruled by their cousin Harrison McMasters; the Southfold was called Arad and ruled by their Cousin Imad McMasters; the Eastfold was now the East Kingdom of Tansguard and ruled by Wafford McMasters; and the Westfold was said to be ruled by another Cousin, though since the Binochi Corridor had been closed, no one really knew for sure.

This was a process that had been a hundred years in the making; Emperor William didn't cause the decline, but his rule was uninspiring and did little to reverse it. Additionally there was the matter of thinning bloodlines. Emperor William's great grandfather inherited less of the Power than his grandfather, and his father inherited less than him, and William even less than his father. William at his peak was still powerful in his own right, but magically speaking was little more than a dwarf compared to his ancestors.

It was thought that Delos was the most powerful of the three of William's children; Delos, Darvin, and Margaret. As the oldest son, it seemed only logical that he would become Emperor as Father declined in health.

But in Margaret's opinion Delos was not suited to rule. He was a playboy who was more suited to fast horses, slow women, and old whiskey. Delos was not a bad person but simply a self-indulgent one who only cared for himself. He was the kind of person who would let the peasants starve while musicians and jugglers entertained him in his hall during festival. He would make a terrible Emperor.

Margaret thought her younger brother Darvin would make a better Emperor. Not that she thought he would be a great Emperor; Darvin was kind, and sensitive, and thoughtful, but his strengths were also his weaknesses. He was a boy who loved reading books and picking wildflowers. Margaret had doubts as to whether he had the mettle to truly become Emperor.

But those were the choices available, and so Margaret worked on Darvin. It disturbed her even more that she really had to work hard to persuade him to take his birthright; it further convinced her that maybe he didn't have the drive to be a good Emperor.

But Delos must be stopped at all costs, she decided. So she worked on Darvin and eventually persuaded him that it was his duty to take the throne, for the good of the realm. Margaret sensed their time was running out. Father was sicker and sicker and was seen in public less and less. The Wizard Peine, who Margaret never trusted, claimed he was doing everything he could to make her father "comfortable" in his declining days, but Margaret never trusted the shifty wizard.

The day came when Margaret entered the throne room to talk to Father and nearly gasped when she saw Delos sitting on the throne. "What is this?" she demanded.

Delos smiled. "Father has asked me to manage to some routine day to day affairs for him while he is recovering."

They both knew that was a lie. Father would never recover. But was the rest a lie as well?

"I don't believe it," said Margaret. "Magister can run things just as well."

"Magister is First Steward," said Delos. "If there is a matter about the vintage of wines or the plumpness of fowl to be served at a feast, I would leave that in his more than capable hands. Anything else... leave that to me."

"We'll see about this," said Margaret, turning on her heels.

"Father is not to be disturbed," said Delos. "There are guards around his chambers to make sure of that."

"I am the royal princess of Aridor!" Margaret cried.

"I'm sorry," said Delos, with a sad smile. "Those are his orders."

Margaret ran back to her quarters, weeping. As she stared into her mirror and cried, she noticed a folded note on the countertop. She opened it.

I can help. Meet me where we last met, at Pinafore Lake, at the eighth evening bell.

Could it be? Cunha?

It was with some trepidation that Margaret walked in the small forest behind Rockrod Castle with a small lantern. The night felt big and dark. What was she doing here? She should really be at home with Farnham. But instead of being with her husband she was out here, looking for-

"Cunha!" she said.

Cunha was standing with a small circle of men. He was flanked by two women, and there were also two small children.

Cunha looked all grown up now, and yet the same. Margaret flew into his arms and hugged him. He hugged her back.

"Hey Cuz," he said, giving her a firm hug. He pulled away, and lifted his own lantern. "Let me look at you." He stared at her up and down. "You've grown into quite a woman."

Margaret found herself blushing and it was as if she was 18 again. "Cunha, I'm married now, to Lord Beaumont."

"As am I," said Cunha. "May I have the pleasure of presenting my wife, the lovely Selvanna." He indicated a gorgeous dark haired woman.

"Hello Margaret," said Selvanna evenly. "I've heard so much about you. Cunha said you were beautiful. I can see that he was right."

Selvanna's words were nice, but there was something about her manner, about the calmness of her tone, that caused a chill to ripple through Margaret's Wisdoms. Selvanna gave her a hard stare, and Clare visibly flinched. But then Selvanna broke out into a firm smile and the moment passed.

"And these are my children, Karibdis and Tripoli," said Cunha. He pointed to two young boys who looked like their father. They couldn't have been more than a handful of harvests old. "Boys, say hello to your Cousin Margaret."

"This was the one before Mom?" Karibdis asked. Plainly, he had come with a set of expectations.

Cunha gave a little laugh. "This is your Cousin," he said again.

Karibdis shrugged. Tripoli, who was even younger, gave Margaret a hard stare.

"Boys," Cunha explained, apologetically. And then the woman on the other side of Cunha grabbed his arm. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"Of course," said Cunha. "Margaret, this is Zaragoth."

"Zaragoth," said Margaret. She looked confused. Zaragoth looked much too old to be a child. Selvanna was the wife. Who or what then was Zaragoth?

Cunha smiled at her befuddlement. "Zaragoth is my... consort."

"And my darling younger sister," Selvanna said, in a strained voice.

Oh. My. Goddess!

Cunha had evidently taken a wife, and then taken his wife's sister as a mistress. Margaret couldn't believe it. She shook her head vigorously. She had to focus. "Your message talked about helping," she said.

"Quite right," said Cunha. He looked around at Selvanna and Zaragoth and the men around him. "Why don't we go for a walk?"

They went by the lake. The moons were out and it was a bright night. The crickets were chirping loudly, and Margaret could also hear the gentle lap lap of the water coming to shore. "What happened to you, Cunha?" she asked. "Why did you leave?"

"I had no choice," said Cunha. His face looked pained in the dim light of the lantern. "Father... father was always a rough man. He used to beat Mother, did you know that?"

"No! I never did!"

"He did," said Cunha. "One time Mother couldn't take it anymore. She started seeking out the affections of another man. Father eventually caught her, and killed them both."

Margaret grabbed his arm. "Cunha, your father killed your mother?"

Cunha nodded grimly, his features yellow from the lantern light. "When Father calmed down, he couldn't live with what he had done. He killed himself."

"Did... did my father know this?"

"Of course," said Cunha. "But he knew the scandal would be terrible for the McMasters to bear. So he sent the only living witness over the Unending Sea."

"You," said Margaret.

Cunha nodded.

"Oh, Cunha, I'm so sorry," she said, still holding onto his arm. "That must have been terrible for you!"

"It was... a challenging experience," said Cunha.

"What... what did you do? Where did you go?"

"It's a story for another time," said Cunha. "Suffice to say that the Unending Sea is not quite Unending. I eventually found a land which was being ruled cruelly, by tyrants who didn't care about their people. Peasants were beaten, abused, even killed. I started to fight back on their behalf. Other men joined me. Over time we liberated more and more villages, and my forces grew larger and larger."

"You... you have an army?" Margaret asked.

"A small one," said Cunha. "Word reached my ears about Emperor William's decline. I figured you might be in trouble. I decided to come back and try and help you."

"Oh, Cunha, that's so sweet of you," said Margaret. Quickly she told him how Delos had taken control of Rockrod, and refused to let her see her ailing father. She told him that Darvin would make a much better Emperor, and was relieved to see that Cunha agreed.

"But my husband's forces aren't large enough to take the castle," said Margaret. The garrison at Rockrod Castle were loyal to the Emperor, but with Emperor William sick, Delos had authority over them.

"I have two hundred good men camped in the forest five miles from here," said Cunha. "Together, we can take Rockrod, if you can get us in." He looked at her imploringly. "Margaret, I need to know. Is there any secret entrance into the Castle? One that might not be guarded?" Rockrod was called a Castle, but it was also every bit a fortress, guarded by high walls.

Margaret gave Cunha an appraising stare, and nodded. "Yes. There is." She took a deep breath. "If we do this, Cunha, you have to promise me there will be no killing."

Cunha bit his lip and looked down for a moment. "Margaret, there may be no choice. If they fight, we'll have to fight back."

Margaret took a deep breath. "I understand. But I want casualties kept to a minimum. Once the Household garrison realizes they are outnumbered, they should do the sensible thing and surrender to us. And above all I don't want Delos harmed."

"Of course," said Cunha. "I understand."

Margaret raised her hand to touch his cheek tenderly. "It's so amazing to see you again, in our time of greatest need. It's as if the Womb of the World created you just to help me at this very moment."

Cunha took a step forward and looked into her eyes. "Do you think so? If so, which Candelabra of the World put me into the Global Womb? Was it Anber's, or Bemos'?"

It was said there were two Candelabras of the World, belong to Anber and Bemos. Anber was thought to be evil, and so when Anber had access to the Womb of the World, he used it to create wicked things. But when Bemos had its turn with the Global Womb, the Womb was used to create only good. So it was said.

Margaret continued to touch his cheek as she felt her ahmen rise within her. "Oh... definitely Bemos. Bemos for sure." She felt herself sinking towards him, closer, closer, closer....

She couldn't!

She pulled back, feeling embarrassed. "Let me... let me talk to my husband. Farnham."

"You do that," said Cunha. "Talk to your husband." His expression was unreadable.

They arranged to strike two days later. Margaret went to the Freehold where she lived and talked to Lord Farnham. He was willing to help, as Margaret knew he would. Farnham was a good man. He knew the risks; if they failed, they would all likely be executed as traitors. But he agreed to help out of his love for her. Margaret resolved that once this situation was resolved that she would spread her legs and work even harder to bake a meat pie for Farnham. And hopefully when it was born it would be a boy, a male heir.

But Margaret felt some apprehensions when she gathered with Farnham's forces in the little forest behind the castle two mornings later. Darvin was there, of course. Margaret had to really work hard on him to persuade him to come. He was reluctant and even a little afraid. "What if people die? What if something goes wrong?" he said.

At that moment Margaret knew he would be a terrible Emperor.

But Delos would be even worse.

Perhaps, Margaret thought, if Darvin let her guide him, his rule could be a successful one.

The other source of Margaret's misgivings were Cunha's men. She hadn't gotten a good look at them in the dark two days earlier, and now that she did, she didn't exactly like what she saw.

Cunha's men didn't look like shining knights who took from the rich and gave to the poor; to the contrary, they looked more like bandits. They were clearly unshaven, unkempt, with dirt on their faces and wildly uncombed hair. They gave Margaret what looked like sinister leers and whispered to each other with little grins on their faces. Their leader, a man named General Cloaka, inspired even less confidence. He was just as unshaven and dirty as the rest of his men, but also had a wild look in his eyes, one that caused Margaret to shiver.

And then there was the giant woman with four Wisdoms, and the man who was also a dog.

Margaret was not ignorant. She had been educated by royal tutors. So she was aware that there was a land called the Hidden Valley where a race of warrior women lived who had four... four Wisdoms. But she had never actually seen one before. Frankly, Margaret had thought they were little more than myths.

But this woman was no myth. She was over six feet tall, and all muscle from the look of her. She had armor covering both sets of Wisdoms, though the tops of her Wisdoms were exposed, and Margaret saw a nasty scar on the woman's upper right Wisdom. The woman looked like she had been chiseled out of stone.

White Stone.

She was White.

Nearly everyone in the civilized world were either Cream, or Beige. Creams and Beiges got along with each other, except when they didn't. Creams thought Beiges were arrogant, and Beiges thought Creams were sly and tricky with money.

And then there was that tiny percentage of people who were White. Most Whites lived in Ra*e Town, on the eastern edge of the Centerfold. Ra*e Town was a place of anarchy and violence. What else did one expect from White folk? The Emperor's soldiers kept out of there unless they had good reason to go in, and they had swords and armor and shields. Regular folk simply didn't go to Ra*e Town. Unfortunately, the inhabitants of Ra*e Town often came out to plague their Cream and Beige neighbors with robbery, theft, assault, and sometimes, yes, Ra*e. More than one woman who wandered too close to Ra*e Town at night found herself viciously assaulted and then, two months later, ballooning up with a meat pie if she wasn't careful enough to go on the ragweed.

Margaret had been educated to understand that it was poverty that drove Whites to act like animals, but she had barely even seen one from a distance. And now she stood in front of a giant one who stood in front of her blank faced, and she held a wicked sword.

"This is Zebrah," said Cunha, introducing her to Margaret. "Before she came to work for me, she was the First Sword of the Wind Swords, the most impressive organization of warriors among the Alkemi of the Hidden Valley."

"That is not true," said Zebrah. She spoke in a deep, flat voice. "The Wind Swords are not the most impressive group of Warriors among my people. Those would be the Harpies. And I was not First Sword."

"But you would have been, if you had been given the chance," said Cunha.

"Perhaps," said Zebrah coldly.

"Perhaps," Cunha grinned as he raised his eyebrows.

Margaret's eyes turned to the creature who was standing to Zebrah's side. It had the face of a dog, with a dark muzzle, but the arms, legs, and body of a man. Though the body was covered in a thick layer of dark fur. And on its back was a tail. "What... what are you?"

"This?" Cunha asked, putting his arm around the creature. "This is Dog. Say hello to Margaret, Dog."

"Hello to Margaret, Dog," said Dog, in a dry voice.

Margaret jumped slightly.

"Yes, he does speak," said Cunha. "In fact, Dog speaks well and fights even better."

Zebrah snorted visibly.

"These are some of the best fighters from all over the world," said Cunha.

"I'm sure," said Margaret, turning back to Zebrah's well muscled body.

It was time to commit... or to forget about their entire plan. Margaret looked at Darvin, who was nervously trying not to make eye contact with Zebrah, and made a decision.

The entrance to the tunnel was hidden behind some bushes in the side of a hill. It led on for two hundred feet under the castle walls into the granary. One by one they emerged from the tunnel. Cunha had brought his two hundred men, and Farnham had brought nearly a hundred.

As they emerged from the granary, they saw a servant carrying a bundle. He immediately dropped what he was carrying and tried to run.

Dog Man was quicker, running forward to grab him and break his neck with a sick cracking sound.

"I said there was to be no killing," said Margaret.

Cunha grabbed Margaret roughly. "Margaret, all it would take would be one man to raise the alarm. We can't afford to be intercepted before we reach the throne room."

"We're not going to the throne room," said Margaret.

"We're not?" said Farnham. "Isn't that where Delos will be?"

"Probably," said Margaret. "But I want to check on Father first. Maybe we can avoid further bloodshed if we can persuade him to remove Delos from power."

"Where is he?" Farnham asked.

"The Royal Apartments," said Margaret.

Margaret winced as the two guards outside Father's quarters were dispatched by Cunha's men. She was having more and more reservations about what they were doing and how they were doing it. Perhaps Father could put a stop to this madness.

Margaret was not prepared for what she was to see when she entered Father's bedroom.

There was blood everywhere--on the bed, on the floor, on the walls.

"What has happened here?" Margaret said. She ran over to the bed. Father lay there, with a bloody hole in his chest.

William McMasters, the Emperor of Aridor, was dead.

"What... what could do this?" Margaret asked. She heard a hissing sound, and looked up, but it was almost too late.

A giant spider, perhaps a foot in diameter jumped down from the ceiling directly on top of her. Or rather, it would have, if Zebrah hadn't knocked Margaret to the floor a split second before the spider hit.

Margaret blinked as she looked up at Zebrah; her blade was pointed upwards, and the spider was impaled on it.

Zebrah offered Margaret a hand up. Her face was cold and impassive. Margaret took her hand. When she stood erect, Zebrah turned away, wiping the spider off her blade, and then cleaning her sword on Father's bedsheets. Her sword was a famed vorpal blade, sharper than any blade in existence, and it had a name.

Thrasher.

Margaret noticed that Thrasher was so shiny it gleamed. It was almost silver in color.

"What... what has happened here?" Margaret asked, trying to make sense of it all.

"It looks like Delos staged a retirement party for your father," said Cunha.

"Delos?" Margaret made a face. "No. He would never do this. Not Delos."

"With your father out of the way, no one could stop him," said Cunha.

"Father," Margaret whimpered, as she looked down at the bloodied remains of the Emperor. "Father, I'm so sorry."

"Margaret, we don't have time for this," said Cunha. "We could be discovered at any moment. We must deal with Delos."

"He's right," said Farnham, taking his shaking wife into his arms. "We can all grieve later, dear."

Margaret bit her lip and nodded. She needed to be strong, now. She needed to be focused. "All right." She took a deep breath. "Let's go."

They had to kill four more soldiers before they reached the throne room. Margaret was numb to it all. Seeing her father dead, seeing his body ripped open like that, left her in a state of shock, worse even since her mother had died all those years ago.

When they entered the throne room, they found Delos sitting there, waiting for them. He had a smile pasted on his face as dozens of Farnham's men and Cunha's soldiers filed in behind Margaret.

Margaret slowly approached the stairs below the throne, in the company of Darvin, Cunha, and Farnham. Delos seemed quite alone, except for two guardsmen flanking him on either side. More to the point, Delos seemed relaxed, as if this were all some sort of game, as if it were a game he had already won.

Margaret felt wary, to say the least. She knew that Delos was stronger in the Power than she was. Or Darvin, for that matter. She had hoped that he might be persuaded to surrender when he was surrounded by her men. She had hoped that even if he didn't surrender, that she combined with Darvin and Cunha could overpower Delos. Margaret didn't know exactly how strong Cunha was with the Power, but when she had last seen him, ten years ago, his jizz had felt quite strong.

"Sister," said Delos, extending his arms. "So nice of you to pay us a visit. Who are all your friends?" He stared at Farnham, and nodded slightly to him. Then he looked at Cunha. Recognition slowly dawned in his eyes. "Could it be... Cousin Cunha? I thought they sent you over the Unending Sea."

"They did, Cousin," said Cunha.

"Not so unending as we were lead to believe, then," said Delos.

"Oh, it's unending all right," said Cunha. "I spent five years sailing east, and then five sailing west."

Delos laughed. "I always heard you had a good sense of humor. I think if we had been differently situated, we could have been friends."

"It's too late for that, Delos," said Margaret. "Not after what you did to Father."

"Father?" Delos looked confused. "Father is receiving the best medical care we can provide."

"No! Father is dead."

"Dead?" said Delos, still looking genuinely confused.

"You killed him!" Margaret cried.

Delos looked confused for a moment longer, and then his face cleared up. "Ah. I think see now. First Father, and now me."

"We have you surrounded," said Farnham. "Surrounded, and outnumbered, as you can see."

"I see," said Delos. "And what is it you ask of me?"

"Step down," said Margaret.

"Step down? And who will rule the Empire?" His gaze turned to Darvin, who was staring down at the floor. "Him?" He laughed, the sounds echoing cruelly through the throne room. "You mean you, Margaret. You're to rule through him. Isn't that right?" Delos said.

"No," said Margaret. But her denial was feeble even to her own ears.

"And what is to become of me while younger brother here is ruling the Empire?" Delos asked. "Imprisonment? Execution?"

"Exile," said Margaret slowly. "Exile, if you can prove you didn't mur*er father."

"How exactly do I prove a negative?" Delos asked. "How do I prove I didn't eat a slice of bread this morning? How do I prove I didn't get out of the left side of my bed instead of the right? How many things can you prove you haven't done today, Sister?"

"I can prove I haven't killed you," said Margaret. "Yet."

Delos gave a slow chuckle. "Your thinking is all so charmingly old-fashioned, Sister. It's not all your fault, I suppose. The McMasters blood line has run rather thin, especially since Father's Father's time. Or was it Father's Father's Father's time? I forget. Well, it doesn't really matter, does it?" And he took his hand out of his pocket and held up something before them. It looked like a small statue, a figurine of a man with a sword and a shield. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

Margaret looked at the figurine with puzzlement. She was trying to remember something one of her tutors, Master Entilda, had once taught her, showing her illustrations in a special book. "No," said Margaret, shaking her head. "It couldn't be. A manatas?"

Delos merely smiled.

"But the manatas are all gone. There hasn't been one found in a hundred years," said Margaret. She looked at Delos appraisingly. "You're bluffing. That's just a statue."

"Is it?" Delos asked.

Suddenly, Margaret felt a tremendous buildup of energy. She could sense the jizz flowing through Delos. A beam of energy shot out through him, through the manatas, striking a marble pillar. There was a tremendous blast as a hole was burned through it. Everyone's jaw dropped.

"As you can see, I am not quite helpless as you think," said Delos. "In fact-"

Margaret felt another buildup of energy. But this was not from Delos.

It was from Cunha. She sensed a tremendous surge of jizz bubbling up inside his body. Delos sensed it too. He raised the hand with the figurine and pointed it at Cunha even as Cunha launched a blast of power at his Cousin.

The Roots of the Earth. That was the ultimate source of the Power. The Wise Man Peine called it "gravity", but whatever it was, a small number of people had the ability to tap into this tremendous power. Most of them were McMasters. But not all. Wizards like Peine had the power too.

And now Margaret felt the power, coming out of her cousin. He launched a beam of intense energy at Delos. It was met by a beam of equal energy from Delos.

Delos's face was a mask of concentration. So was Cunha's. Slowly, Margaret saw Cunha's beam move forward, even as Delos's beam retreated. Delos cried out as he tried to force more energy through his manatas. Cunha, sweating profusely, snarled and redoubled his efforts. Slowly his beam came closer and closer until it was almost touching Delos.

"All right," said Margaret. "That's enough, Cunha."

Cunha didn't respond. He had almost broken through. He growled and kept going.

"Enough!" Margaret cried.

Cunha released the beam. Delos staggered back into the throne. Margaret blinked as she realized what had just happened. Cunha had beaten someone who had a manatas. That shouldn't be possible.

Cunha reached out and caressed her cheek and smiled. "Enough is never enough," he whispered.

Margaret's eyebrows furled as Cunha turned and blasted a hole through Delos's chest. The beam was so strong that it burned a hole through the throne itself. The guards around Delos charged forward, but then beams of energy came out of Selvanna and Zaragoth's hands, and Delos's men were quickly cut down.

They had the Power too.

Cunha walked up the stairs to the throne. He looked at the hole in the back of the chair critically. "I suppose I will have to get that fixed."

"Cunha, what are you doing?" Margaret asked.

Cunha looked down at Delos and smiled as he kicked him out of the chair. Delos's lifeless body tumbled down the stairs.

"Taking the throne, of course," said Cunha.

"But Darvin is going to become Emperor," said Margaret, getting a sinking feeling in her stomach as Cunha sat down on the throne.

"You knew that was never going to happen," said Cunha. "Darvin is about as well suited to becoming Emperor as I am to growing Wise Ones." His smile seemed to grow progressively larger and bolder as he saw realization spread across Margaret's face.

"You... You weren't sent away because your father killed your mother, were you?" Margaret asked.

"No," said Cunha, and now he was grinning widely. "Mother and I struck up... a relationship."

"You and Aunt Tara?" said Margaret, making a face.

"What can I say, she wanted it," said Cunha. "She begged for it."

"She did not!" said Margaret.

"She did," Cunha was still grinning. "I bangstuck her real good. She loved my hot wax. But then Dad came in on us unexpectedly one day, and I had to dispose of him."

"You... killed Uncle Rogan?"

"He was in the way," Cunha explained. "I was able to adjust to the loss, of course, but not Mother. She took her own life two days later. If I had only gotten to her troublesome note first, I wouldn't have been sent away."

"Emperor William found out... and sent you away for bangsticking your mother and killing your father...."​